Eye of the Storm
by cmwrites
Summary: "Children of the Gods", 1x01 - In the moments between Apophis' order to kill all the prisoners in the Chulak dungeon and the second one Jaffa Serpent Guard decided that enough was enough, what drove him to make the most important decision of his life?


"**Eye of the Storm"**

Season: 1  
>Spoilers : Spoilers for season 1, but no further. Takes place at the height of the pilot episode, but it references all the way to the end of the first season.<br>Content Warning: Violence; general inner turmoil  
>Disclaimer: Stargate SG-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, ShowtimeViacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Sci-fi and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

**Author's Note: **This is my first SG-1 fanfic. I have literally _just started_ the series, but I loved it so much I felt like writing this quick one-shot peek into Teal'c's mind during the pilot. My thanks to Gateworld for providing the transcripts I used heavily while writing this story. **  
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><p>"<em>Kill the rest."<em>

It was now or never. Now or never. Instinct and Intellect and Training all waged war inside his mind as his fellow Serpent Guards armed their staffs and advanced on the scattering prisoners. But he wasn't seeing them; wasn't hearing their cries; wasn't even watching them attempt in vain to retreat. His thoughts were already doing this. Each individual musing came and retreated quicker than a Death Glider in the heat of battle.

Then, though, a voice:

"_I can save these people!"_

It was that man; that man he was _certain_ was a Tau'ri. Instinct and Training shoved Intellect down to the ground, and he armed his own weapon _(turn, click, set, how many times have I done this it feels as natural as breathing?) _ and spun on his heels to face the man. But Intellect kept him from firing. He couldn't. He could _not_ do what two-thirds of every fiber in his being screamed at him to.

He had been conflicted all day. No, not all day – all his _life_. It didn't make any sense, yet it made perfect sense. Something was wrong, yet nothing was wrong. He was a Jaffa, and the Goa'uld were their gods, and there existed no other gods before them – or were there?

How many times had he watched a Goa'uld symbiote be transplanted into a human whose scream rivaled even the high-pitched screech of a _zat'n'ktel _weapon? How many times had he repressed a shudder and kept a straight face as he fired on largely defenseless groups of people on any number of planets, all under Apophis' orders? How many times had he justified his every action with the excuse that he merely did it all to protect and provide for his family; for his beloved wife and son?

How many times had he asked himself, _How much longer can I keep up this façade? _

Today, he thought he knew that answer:

No longer.

He had seen the pain in this Tau'ri's eyes as the boy destined to be the son of Apophis and his queen was dragged away. He had seen the pain in the other's eyes as the woman he could only presume to have once been the man's lover, perhaps more, stood beside her pharaoh. And now he had seen the desperation in the man before him, standing there, clinging to something that did not exist: hope.

The man called out now, _"Help me!"_ His voice faltered, and some of his spirit seemed to drain out of him. _"Help me."_

And now, he had a decision to make.

He could fire.

He could "pull the trigger", as it were, and take this Tau'ri down, and remain the ever-loyal First Prime of Apophis. He would be further rewarded for his compliance with orders and his family's honor would increase ever more. He would come home to Drey-auc and Rya'c, and all would be well, as it always was. It would be easy. It seemed like the correct thing to do in a situation such as this. What other options existed? Any he thought of would be traitorous.

He could turn and run away.

He could flee from the scene and never look back. He could even saunter out and let the other Serpent Guards take care of the prisoners. He _was_ First Prime. There existed no real reason to have this on his conscience. He wouldn't have stopped this slaughter, but it wouldn't have been the first time. The consequences would be worse for all if he were to turn on his own men.

He flashed back to Cartago; back to that dreadful place where Apophis ordered him to shoot one man… or all would die. He believed to this day he had made the right choice. He had considered all his options, and taken the one which had seemed the least detrimental

_(Why did you do that? Why did you single out that one man, look in his eyes, and know? _How_ did you know?)_

and taken the shot. His heart wrenched again at the sight of the young boy crying over his father's body, but it wasn't the boy he saw, it was _Rya'c_, weeping over his _own_ body, and he immediately regretted at that moment firing his staff weapon.

The weapon in his hands suddenly felt as if it had doubled in weight.

He could trust this man and do as he suggested: help him.

He didn't know why he trusted the Tau'ri. It was the same Intellect which had told him to fire on the old man with one leg instead of another victim, or worse yet, turned and walked away to let Apophis deal with the Cartago population. It was the same Intellect that turned his gut instead of warming his conscience whenever a Goa'uld was inserted into a human's body.

It was the same Intellect that had driven him to select the woman, Sha're, because her determination had set her apart. She had not been afraid.

_(Something of the host must survive, the Tau'ri had said… False hopes… Were they not..?)_

It was the same Intellect that never wanted to keep quiet in his most troubled moments.

He had seen this man's technology. The device on his wrist, while seemingly simple, was still beyond whatever he had seen from other humans. The symbol the other had drawn in the sand had, indeed, been of the planet they called "Earth". He could have told Apophis this, if the god did not already know. Instead, he had quickly scratched out the triangular symbol and eradicated it from view.

What made this man different? What set him and his fellow Tau'ri apart? What _was it_ about them that made him question everything he'd believed for decades now? He had been told for so many years that the Tau'ri were the enemy. They were a dangerous, savage people. But these individuals seemed neither of those qualities. Instead, they seemed to be rather brilliant, free-thinking, and almost unstoppable in resolve.

It seemed, then, that Apophis had lied.

What else was a lie? A few things? Everything? It was too much.

He only wanted what was best for his family. He valued them above all else. He wanted his wife to remain her beautiful, happy, radiant self. He wanted to see his son grow to become a great warrior and attain honors beyond his own. He wanted what was best for them, and for his people.

But he did not want to be a slave. At this time, he realized that. Slavery was death. Slavery was not only the enslavement of the body, but the mind as well. Others felt this way. They had even spoken of this concept of freedom – only in secret, yes, but spoken of it nonetheless. Perhaps there existed something to this concept. Perhaps it was not just the ramblings of an old warrior who had been for so long his mentor and one of his truest friends.

Perhaps it was the Tau'ri, and not the Goa'uld, who were to be the saviors of the Jaffa and so many other races in the galaxy. They had come here through the _chapaa'ai_, as only Goa'uld had done before. Perhaps they were not gods – but then, were the Goa'uld, either?

There were too many unanswered questions, but Instinct had started to merge with Intellect, and Training at last began to agree with both–

And there existed no time, no time for debate, he had to act _now_—

The Jaffa silenced his thoughts in a split-second and raised his voice to shout to the Tau'ri the only words which were still left in his mind:

"_Many have said that!"_

He turned now, Training taking a firm grasp, and shot the nearest Serpent Guard. The charge screamed out of the barrel, through the claws, echoing a small part of his mind's protest against the traitorous act. But by now he didn't care. There was more at stake than mere lives. Perhaps he could reconcile his misdeeds of the past in whatever way he could. Perhaps he could prove to these Tau'ri that even a slave race is a race worth saving.

As soon as the charge struck, he tossed his weapon to the Tau'ri man. He caught it as expertly as any Jaffa warrior he had seen in his time.

"_But you are the first I believe could do it!"_

And at that moment, something passed between them: Trust, understanding, and, yes, hope. All the details were not clear. He did not know what this Tau'ri would do with him, nor how his comrades would react. He did not know what he would do once all the Guards were dropped. He had just condemned himself and his family to being outcast.

But there was more at stake than mere lives.

And with that, Teal'c immersed himself once more into the chaos.


End file.
